Rita Hayworth's Shoes

by Francine LaSala

  “But how did you…how could you…” Grant wanted to know.

  “When we found Marny and Liz,” Deck said, “Marny wouldn’t talk but Liz eventually spilled it.”

  “We? You mean…Deck, you were there?” Amy asked.

  “When we learned all those people were there, that’s when we realized we had to go in,” said Hannah, and she walked toward the door as she spoke. “And all thanks to Deck, we were able to bring you back a souvenir,” she said, and she pulled open the door.

  “Mom! Dad!” Amy shouted, as her parents swept in and wrapped her in a giant hug.

  “This was what initially inspired my research,” Hannah said, beaming. “The other stuff just kind of fell in my lap.”

  “That happens sometimes,” said the waiter, who had slipped in behind Eric and Shirley Miller to set two new places for Deck and Hannah, and to see if the water glasses needed re-filling.

  “Oh Amy, I thought we’d never see you again,” said Shirley. “Just look at you!”

  “You’re a vision,” her father said.

  There was a huge commotion then as the family rose and greeted their prodigal members.

  When everything had quieted down, the waiter set two more places and Eric and Shirley sat down to relay their harrowing tale.

  “It was the best trip we ever took,” said Eric, to a room of confused stares. “Let me clarify,” he said. “Although being abducted by the Pygmies I think we could have done without.”

  “They were actually very nice to us,” said Shirley, and Eric nodded. “They treated us like family and shared their customs with us,” Shirley continued. “And I have some pretty interesting ideas about how to incorporate some of these into some of our upcoming celebrations,” Shirley said, beaming at Zoë.

  “Why is she looking at me like that? Mama, don’t let her look at me like that.”

  “But we wanted to be home,” said Eric. “And we never would have made it home without this guy,” said Eric, smiling at Deck.

  “It was Deck who swooped into the camp and demanded our release,” said Shirley.

  “You can only imagine the visual,” Hannah laughed. “They came up to his knees!”

  “But he wouldn’t lay a finger on them,” Shirley said, choking up. “He was a perfect gentleman.”

  Lauren screwed up her face and asked, “Then how…”

  “They apparently play this game called Vinga,” said Ollie, “which is kind of like Scrabble, but, well, without letters.”

  “How does that even make sense?” said Grant.

  “He’s apparently an expert,” said Ollie, a glint in his eye.

  “Wait a minute, wait a minute,” said Amy, only now getting the whole picture. “You went to Brazil? Since I saw you at the precinct?” she asked Deck.

  “Yep.”

  “That’s like twelve hours on an airplane.”

  “You bet.”

  “To meet up with Hannah?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “And then you guys found Liz and Marny in the jungle?

  “We did.”

  “All while I was in Pennsylvania.”

  “Haven’t slept in three days!”

  “But that’s not the only reason why you went down there?”

  “No, not really.”

  “You went for me?” He smiled as she began to understand. “To rescue my parents.”

  “And you did this by winning some letter-less game of Scrabble?” asked Enid.

  “Indeed,” he smiled. “Apparently it’s the letters that get in my way.”

  “Huh,” said Mort.

  “But he didn’t only rescue them, Amy,” Hannah gushed. “There were others. You’d never believe how many people those crazy Pygmies had collected thanks to Marny.”

  “He was a hero,” said Eric.

  “So what happened to the map?” asked Enid.

  “Well, we burned the map,” said Deck.

  “My God, whatever for?” Morty demanded.

  “To protect the region, of course,” Joshua nodded. “I get it.”

  “We have to protect those tribes from looters and other crazies,” said Hannah.

  “Really, it was the only way,” Deck said.

  “So you gave up all those riches?” Clarabelle asked.

  “I guess,” said Deck.

  “Damned tree huggers,” Morty groused.

  “But we have all the riches we need right here,” said Shirley, as she hugged her little girl.

  “And we’re so proud of you, Amy!” said Eric, smirking at the placard, and squinting at the sign the photo he and photo Shirley “held”. “You finally did it. You earned your doctorate, at last!”

  “I did, yes.”

  Eric squinted more closely at the placard. “Hey, what happened to my face?”

  “And you’re not with that idiot David, anymore,” said Shirley. “Thank God. I think it goes without saying that we really like Deck,” she smiled.

  “Oh, but Deck and I are just, I mean we were….” Amy stalled.

  “Really? After all this you think there isn’t a future with this man?” snapped Lauren.

  “I don’t know what to think,” said Amy.

  “Who cares what you think, Amy,” said Grant. “What do you feel?”

  Zoë started shaking her head. “I really don’t really understand any of this. I mean,” she said, looking at Hannah, genuinely perplexed. “Who knew that you were going to matter so much in all of this?”

  “Zoë! Nice girls—”

  “I know, I know. Nice girls give props where they’re due,” she smiled a little toothless grin. “So, Hannah, I’m really glad you’re with us. One of us.”

  “Thanks, kid,” Hannah smiled. “Gooble gobble.” And Zoë gave her a high five and a great big hug.

  “So all’s well that ends, well, eh Dr. Miller,” said Joshua. “How does it feel?”

  “I knew you would do it, Amy,” said Deck. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t be there.”

  “That’s okay. I guess it all makes sense now. And you were there,” she said, stroking the daisy pin. “In the way you could be.”

  “Nice pin,” he smiled back at her. “Happy Birthday.”

  “Thank you,” she said, her eyes never leaving his gaze.

  “Me too, Amy. I really wanted to be there.”

  “Oh Hannah, are you kidding? Look at all of this,” Amy said, her eyes welling with tears. “I just don’t know to thank you.”

  Hannah looked around the room, and stopped at Grant, who was eyeing her with interest. Hannah smiled at him and while he didn’t smile back, he didn’t look away either. “You could invite me to stay,” she said.

  “Of course,” said Amy.

  “And maybe you could loan me those shoes sometime.”

  “I’ll even give them to you,” said Amy. “But not just yet.”

  “Well, Doctor Miller?” asked Deck. “You never answered the question. How does it feel?” he asked.

  Amy smiled warmly at Deck as she tried to take it all in.

  “Like being in love!” Morty shouted.

  Amy took a deep breath. “It feels pretty good, actually. I mean, it’s all a little confusing and overwhelming, but I think it’s good.” Her parents gave her an enormous hug and she cried in their arms.

  She pulled away from them finally and looked at Deck. “I really don’t know what to say.”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Enid said. “Can’t you see that Kojack loves ya, baby?”

  “Can we just stop with all the bald references already? We get it,” snapped Amy.

  “So you do care about me?” Deck said, and she looked away.

  “Oh, sorry, dear,” Enid said. “
But you know, for a doctor, you’re not very smart.”

  “Ah, the way he looks at her,” Clarabelle, gleefully twirling her goatee. “Just kiss that boy already,” she shouted.

  “I… uh…” Amy stammered, not able to decide what she should do next. Deck took her face into his hands, looked into her eyes, and said, “Amy, you’re wonderful,” he said, and he brushed her two-toned bangs out of her eyes. “And you were the worst assistant I ever had.” Everyone laughed, expect Amy, who burned bright red. “But talk around campus is that you’re going to be one of the best lit professors there ever was,” he said. “And I’m so incredibly proud of you.” She smiled at him, and he asked. “So forget what you think you should do. What do you feel like doing?”

  Amy paused for a moment. Then she pulled up and kissed him and everyone cheered.

  Deck gazed at her seductively. “I think I know just how to celebrate,” he said.

  A soft “Oh?” lodged in her throat.

  “But first,” he began, as he raised a glass and turned to the rest of the group. “A toast,” he said, and all the others raised their glasses. “To Amy. To the classics, who now have a new champion. And,” he said, with a sly wink to Amy, “To this, the best of all possible worlds,” he said. And she couldn’t help but agree.

  ##

  Several days later, after some much-needed rest—and with liberal amounts of sunburn cream and chamomile lotion generously and lovingly applied, not to mention being grateful beyond belief that his enormity had ensured he had not contracted malaria from his thousand mosquito bites—Dr. Decklin Thomas finally began to heal from his jungle adventure. And one afternoon, he and Dr. Amy Miller, entered the Bronx Zoo pushing a large dolly. Strapped to the dolly was a selection of plastic storage containers in various sizes. Drs. Thomas and Miller proceeded to the Reptile House, where Dr. Fish, a smallish man with greasy spectacles and a salt-and-pepper beard, greeted them with a warm smile and a couple of big handshakes.

  Later that day, Drs. Miller and Thomas exited the Reptile House, without the dolly and the containers, and stepped out into the warm late afternoon sun. Dr. Miller, especially, was pleased to know that her babies could at last live in a proper home, each in their own naturalized environment, and that Sparky, especially, would have an enclosure with a proper closure to keep her safe and sound.

  Still later that day, Drs. Miller and Thomas held hands as they headed towards his car, she standing nearly as tall as his shoulder as she clicked along at a fair pace in a very cute pair of red high-heeled shoes.

  “So now what?” she asked.

  “Now?” he replied. “This is only the beginning. Everything is now,” he said. He swooped her up in his massive arms and enveloped her in a luscious kiss that showed just how much he meant it.

  20. How Amy Finally Got it Right

  It was an unseasonably warm afternoon in the middle of winter as a multitude of elegantly dressed guests began filing into an ancient church, which boasted the most beautiful stained glass windows in the entire city.

  Each of the Building Boys were there, dressed to the nines in carefully tailored Italian (naturally) suits. And each walked with a pretty young woman at his side. Except for Tony, who had opted instead to bring his mama.

  Colleagues from the university had turned out in droves. Not present, however, was either David, who had left town shortly after Amy dazzled with her defense, or Liz, who was now embarking on a twenty-year sentence at a women’s prison in Upstate New York, separated by three states from the women’s prison that housed the woman who had stolen her heart, and as an unfortunate side effect, her freedom.

  Aunt Enid and Aunt Clarabelle arrived, escorted by Uncle Morty and Grant, hugging a now-smiling Ava close to him, followed them in. Just behind them, a nice-looking man, sixtyish and dressed in a fireman’s full dress uniform entered and took a seat on the groom’s side, right in the first row.

  And just as the back doors were about to close to allow the ceremony to begin, an incredibly old yet strikingly-dressed woman slid into a pew in the very last row. A satin turban was wrapped around her head, held in place by an amazing gem-encrusted dragonfly pin. A single red curl spilled out the front of her turban and adorned her improbably smooth porcelain-toned forehead.

  Organ music began to play as Decklin Horatio Thomas walked to the front of the church, escorted (though this time not in handcuffs) by his good friend, Detective Oliver Franks, himself dressed in his New York finest. Deck hugged the fireman in the front row and then took his place at the top of the altar.

  Next, proudly donning a white satin yarmulke, edged in tiny white pearls, Joshua Austen-Rabinowitz escorted his lovely wife, Lauren, who wore an exquisite beaded gown, to the front of the church. Their angelic granddaughter Zoë, nestled between them, lovingly sprinkled delicate rose petals as they walked.

  Hannah Lindstrom, glowing in silver satin, came next. She caught Grant staring at her and she waved at him and Ava as she passed them—and they both actually smiled and waved back. And then Jane Austen-Rabinowitz, whose own silver gown wrapped her small frame so exquisitely, she looked to be about six feet tall, followed Hannah. When Jane reached the top of the altar, she leaned up and kissed Deck. She and Ollie shared a warm glance as the organ music became louder and more powerful and everyone in the church stood and faced the back.

  It was then that Amy Miller, bride and recent Ph.D., sashayed into the adoring fray. As she swooshed down the aisle of the ancient church in a sweeping white gown, glorious streams of sunlight beamed through the exquisitely crafted stained glass windows and made all the tiny sequins on her breathtaking (new) gown sparkle to life.

  Flanked on either side by her parents, Shirley and Eric Miller, Amy took long, confident strides, as family and friends shielded their eyes from the heavenly rays as they bounced off her goddess-like visage.

  She sashayed to the massive altar, where the man of her dreams stood, trembling at the amazing luck he had been blessed with to have made this ethereal being gliding gracefully toward him actually have agreed to marry him.

  And if it was wrong for a bride to wear red shoes under her gown, well, she just didn’t care.

  Book Club Questions

  1. Has a “magical” object ever come into your life and transformed the course of things?

  2. Rita Hayworth’s Shoes is a book about shoes, but with more layers than that. Its soul is classic literature. The book is an homage to Voltaire’s Candide, but also peppered with many literary references–some obvious, some not–including classic fairytales. What were some of your favorite references?

  3. Each of the major players in Rita Hayworth’s Shoes is a reference to a classic sideshow attraction. Deck’s an easy example, as The Giant. How many more can you find?

  4. Amy makes a pretty dumb decision in going back to David. Can you relate to choosing the wrong man for all the wrong reasons?

  5. Many readers of Rita Hayworth’s Shoes have suggested it would make a great movie or a Broadway musical. If you were casting this production, which actors would play which roles?

  6. Do you think Deck got his hair back in the end? And why or why not?

  Acknowledgments

  Rita Hayworth’s Shoes is a project that’s been in the works for about ten years (and another twenty years before that if you count all the experiences that inspired it). But it could not have been possible without the group of muses, angels, and impresarios that helped me bring this, the final version, to life.

  The first of these are Shawna Mullen and her daughter, Isabelle Dow. Izzy was about five or six when I started writing this book, and the most gorgeously precocious child I had ever known at that point. She was indeed the inspiration for Zoë—and she even named Deck! Her mom is the inspiration for Jane, but so much more. Shawna has put up with an incredible amount of narcissism and nonsense from me, returning only support and inspi
ration, guidance and glamour, smiles and Sancerre. Plenty of Sancerre.

  Thank you to my amazing husband, Christopher LaSala, for taking my author photo—but more than that, thank you, sweetie, for always coming through for me. Talk about someone putting up with a lunatic! (And I must also admit that some of Deck’s best lines first sprung from his mouth.) A special thank you also goes to my children, Madeleine and Juliana, for inspiring me daily—and for all their delicious distractions.

  A huge thank you to the amazingly talented Tricia McGoey for creating an awe-inspiring jacket design. I literally can’t look at it enough. And to Anne-Marie Rutella for finding and fixing flaws with skill and wit.

  Thank you to all who read drafts of this manuscript, and weighed in with opinions and criticisms, insights and encouragement, including my parents, Paul and Francine Hornberger, my mother-in-law, Dr. Marie-Agnes LaSala, my aunt Rose Marie McHugh, as well as Judy Jacoby, Dolly Chugh, Karen Costoso-Fernandez (who also helped with the cover copy), Christine Mayer, Diana Shafter Gliedman, Karen Alcaide (with those eagle eyes of hers!), Shane Briant, and Erika Tsang.

  This book could not have been possible without the help of so many that lent their support. To all who joined my Facebook page and fan group, for their generosity and faith in me, a huge thank you is in order, especially to Steve Maraboli, who inspired me to “dare” to get out of my own way, and to Virginia Patterson (who also has genius ideas for marketing), Christina Van Tassell and Maria Tahim (for years of necessary shoe-mocking), Stephanie Garcia (for further shaming me into style-consciousness), David Hughes, Maria Yakkey, Michele Contegni, Karen Theroux, Sheila Noone, Derek Hornberger, Don Mochwart, Josh Silber, Laura Chekow, Jeremy Jones-Bateman, Kathi Guarino, Cheryl Meglio, Melissa Hammer, Alison Brew, Denise Gelb, Gia Peterson, Lauren Berkowitz, Pina Adessa, Lee Hornberger, Jonas “Baby Genius” Marijosius, and all who helped crush the final hurdle after we went to press. A special thank you also goes out to Roger Cooper for asking me “the tough questions,” which I never seem able to answer, but for always being on my side anyway.